


One Team's Loss...

by MapacheLuna



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Comfort fic, M/M, Post Seijou Loss, established relationships - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-29
Updated: 2016-03-29
Packaged: 2018-05-29 21:01:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6393613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MapacheLuna/pseuds/MapacheLuna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>...Affects more than just the individual players. Tetsurou had thought it might be fun to go watch the Miyagi Prefecture Preliminaries. After all, his boyfriend's team had made it, and so had Karasuno; it was bound to be an entertaining afternoon.</p><p>He hadn't considered that his hopes for the Battle of the Trash Heap and his boyfriend's dreams of Nationals would end up directly pitted against each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	One Team's Loss...

**Author's Note:**

> WHAT UP, TUMBLR PROMPT?! 
> 
> ........
> 
> I GOT NOTHING, WE ALL COPE IN DIFFERENT WAYS, OKAY?!

_“So, who are we cheering for again?”_

Bokuto had asked when they’d sat down, the shit-eating grin splattered across his face not budging an inch even when Tetsurou had reached over to shove him over.

“Whoever’s playing, of course.” He’d taken the time to adjust his snapback, making sure all of his hair was tucked neatly underneath it as he’d hunched down in his own seat, eyes skimming the sea of jerseys beneath them. “When Aoba Jousai is up, we cheer for them. If Karasuno’s up, we cheer for them too. Duh.”

“What if they play each other?” Kenma hadn’t even bothered looking up from his game, expression strangely tepid even as Bokuto slipped his Pikachu beanie over his hair. “They’re both good enough to make it.”

“Don’t jinx it,” Akaashi muttered, fists clenching and unclenching over his knees, eyes focused straight ahead, his own beanie a simple slouchy steel colored thing. “This is their last chance.”

He hadn’t specified whose last chance he was talking about, but he hadn’t had to. In a way, it was _everyone’s_ last chance;  Tooru and Iwaizumi’s last chance to go to Nationals, _Karasuno’s_ third years’ last chance to go to Nationals, their last chance to have a Battle of the Trash Heap on the National Stage.

Now, watching Aoba Jousai and Karasuno ripping each other apart in their -alarmingly bloodthirsty- third set, Tetsurou couldn’t help but curse how dismissive he’d been. Kenma had long put his game away, sitting on the edge of his seat, eyes going back and forth across the court, and Bokuto had grabbed Akaashi’s hands ages ago, both to keep him from actually tearing holes into the bottom of his shirt and to give himself something to do other than biting his fingernails. Tetsurou himself could feel sweat dampening his collar and flattening his hair to his temples; he wasn’t anywhere near the players, but he felt like he’d been playing right alongside them the entire time.

“Fuck!” He was pretty sure that had been Bokuto, but it could have just as easily been him; he could feel the curse clawing its way up his throat as he watched Azume spike the ball, only to have it bounce off the pink-haired spiker -Hanamaki’s- save, only to have it go far off any savable course-

“HOLY SHIT!” _That_ one had definitely been Bokuto, because Tetsurou couldn’t breathe anymore, let alone _speak_ , watching his boyfriend chase the ball, jump for it, and actually _set it_ , straight into his ace’s waiting hand...and then crash into a line of chairs, body hitting the ground with an impact that Tetsurou felt in his own bones.

“Tooru!” He felt a hand immediately clench into the back of his shirt, pulling him back down -when had he gotten up?- but before he could even turn to glance at Kenma, Tooru was already scrambling up, eyes and feet directed at the court, where Iwaizumi had actually _hit_ it, holy shit, but-

“He fucking saved that?!” Bokuto gaped, his indignation quickly turning into a yelp of pain. “Fuck, Akaashi, I need those!” Akaashi for his part didn’t even look like he was breathing anymore; jaw clenched and hold iron-tight around Bokuto’s steadily purpling fingers.

Tetsurou could sympathize; his own heart felt like it was going to explode.

“They’re going to win,” Kenma’s murmur was quiet, but it hung heavy and loaded between them. “Shouyou’s going to win.”

And he was right; they watched with wide eyes as Hinata’s spike bounced off the blockers’ fingertips, the ball skimming past Tooru’s outstretched arms, landing with a deafening noise onto the floor.

It was over.

Set count, two to one, in Karasuno’s favor. Karasuno was going to the finals.

Aoba Jousai was not.

 _Tooru_ and _Iwaizumi_ were not.

“Holy shit,” Bokuto wheezed. “That was intense.”

“They lost,” Akaashi’s voice sounded faint, almost lost in the uproar going up throughout the stadium. “They’re not going to the finals.” He took a deep shuddery breath, finally releasing Bokuto’s fingers. “You might get your Battle at the Trash Heap after all, Kuroo-san.”

“Yeah,” Tetsurou agreed, heart tearing itself in two as he watched Tooru exchange some words with Kageyama, head still held high, always high. “I guess we might.”

The air was solemn in their little row as they watched Aoba Jousai shuffle towards their coaches, shoulders hunched and backs tense.

“I think Hajime’s crying,” Kenma whispered, eyes darting to his left, watching the way Bokuto had to clamp his hands around Akaashi’s waist to keep him from leaping over the banister, Aoba Jousai lining up beneath them. “I don’t think he’s going to keep to the ‘no contact’ thing you wanted, Kuro.”

Tetsurou had reminded everyone -Akaashi- to keep their little trip a secret from their boyfriends when they'd left Tokyo, for a multitude of reasons that just seemed stupid in hindsight now.

“Yeah?” Tetsurou snorted, running a hand down his face as he stood up, shaking his limbs out with a sigh. “Good. Neither am I.”

* * *

 

They didn’t even attempt to navigate through the mess of people swarming in and out of the hallways, choosing instead to take themselves outside, feet leading them towards the Aoba Jousai bus with relative ease.

Waiting was a different matter however, and Tetsurou was quickly finding out that he _really_ didn't like being on this end of the spectrum; standing around with no direction or rowdy teammates to distract him was making his skin feel tight and ill-fitting over his muscles and bones. Kenma had his phone out, but he was just bouncing it gently off his palm, eyes scanning the bursts of people as they spilled out the doors. Bokuto was, well, hovering, for lack of a better word, frowning and cracking his knuckles as he watched Akaashi wringing the label clean off the apple juice they'd shoved into his hands the minute they'd found a vending machine.

Tetsurou thought it spoke to the atmosphere that the seal on the bottle remained unbroken, and none of them had said anything yet.

Kenma ended up being the one to break the silence between them. “There they are.” He pointed with his phone. “Side door.” Akaashi was already starting forward when Tetsurou managed to find them, a tight knot of white and turquoise jackets moving together through the thinning crowd. He could see Iwaizumi and the other two third years at the front of the group, expressions drawn tight as they stared straight ahead, looking to all the world like a battered battalion refusing to give up the last of their pride.

A battalion that shone for the absence of their captain.

“Where’s-” His question was swallowed by Akaashi’s voice calling out, a little rushed and louder than anyone present was used to hearing.

“Hajime!”

Iwaizumi’s head snapped up, brows furrowing as he looked around, but it took Hanamaki’s elbow to the ribs and a finger pointed in their direction before he actually saw them.

“Keiji?” Iwaizumi’s eyebrows shot up before dipping down just as quick, practically meeting in the center. “What are you-?” He interrupted himself with a painful sounding click of his teeth, a muscle visibly ticking in his jaw as his eyes swept over their motley little crew’s faces. “You saw the game.”

The statement was flat and dry, not really a question at all, but Akaashi bobbed his head slowly all the same, eyes never wavering from his boyfriend’s. “We’ve been here all day.”

“All day huh,” Iwaizumi finally came to a stop in front of him, rubbing the back of his neck with a sigh. “So you saw everything.”

“Pretty much,” Akaashi whispered back, hands reaching out to snatch Iwaizumi’s free hand, pulling at his fingers and smoothing over his palm automatically. “Your hand is red.” He ran a finger down the length of it, wrist to the tip of his middle finger. “Does it hurt?”

“Not as much as other things,” Iwaizumi sighed again, a much more alarmingly wet guttural sound, and Akaashi was wrapping his arms around him before they could even blink, gently pushing his head into his neck.

“We lost.” Akaashi hummed, threading his hand through the spiky hair at the nape of his neck as Iwaizumi’s shoulders began to shake. “Keiji, baby, we _lost_.”

“I know,” Akaashi murmured, letting himself be pulled closer as Iwaizumi’s arms closed around him. “You played so well.” He spoke over Iwaizumi’s huff, “You _did_ , Hajime. Don’t dismiss the faith your team has in you as their ace.” Iwaizumi huffed again, but it was dryer and apparently appropriately chastised sounding, because Akaashi let it slide with a soft sigh, resting his own cheek against Iwaizumi’s head. “I’m proud of you.”

Tetsurou had to look away then, the scene a little too intimate for him to feel comfortable intruding on any longer. He cast his gaze over the remaining shifty Seijou members, mouth twitching down when one very specific brunet stayed missing.

“He went back to round up the stragglers,” Matsukawa offered, his own voice rougher and scratchier than Kuroo was used to hearing it. “You can probably catch him in the hallway down that way.” He nodded towards the side they’d come from. “Our locker room was to the right.”

“Got it,” Tetsurou took a deep breathe, running a hand through his hair before settling his hat back over it, shoulders dropping with his exhale. “I’m going to go…” He gestured, trailing off at Matsukawa’s nod. “Thank you.” He hesitated for a beat before slapping a hand on his shoulder, giving him a little shake. “It was a good game. Bokuto almost peed himself.”

“Hey!”

“It’s true though.”

“Kenma!” Tetsurou was glad to see the barest hint of a smile twitching in the corners of Matsukawa’s lips, Hanamaki reflecting it behind him.

“Thanks, man.”

“Don’t mention it. Really.” Tetsurou gave him one last pat before turning, glancing over his shoulder at Kenma and Bokuto. “I don’t know when I’ll be back,” He warned them.

Bokuto was already shaking his head. “Bro, don’t even worry about it.” He shrugged, casting a sidelong glance at Akaashi and Iwaizumi, still wrapped up in their hug. “He needs you right now, more than we do.”

Tetsurou turned his gaze onto Kenma, only to be met with a steady look. “Me and Koutarou can head home on our own.” He reached over and grabbed one of Bokuto’s hands, steadily ignoring the hoot of surprise he gave. “We have some errands we have to run first too.”

“We do??” Bokuto was quickly turning the color of a cherry, to everyone’s amusement.

“Yes,” Kenma told him calmly, eyes never leaving Tetsurou’s. “We do.”

Tetsurou blinked for a beat, realization dawning on him quickly, before nodding. “Alright. I’ll keep you updated.” He shot them a salute as he started walking towards the side entrance Seijou had emerged from. “Text me when you get home, you two.”

“Kay.”

“Bye, bro!”

Tetsurou would trust that Kenma and Bokuto could pass his congratulations onto Shrimpy and Karasuno; right now, his boyfriend needed him more.

* * *

 

“-You’d best never forget this worthless pride of mine.”

Tetsurou was leaning against one of the pillars in the hall, head tilted back at an odd angle, the bill of his cap digging into his nape. He wasn’t _hiding_ per se; there was too much open space and he was honestly too big to even consider the possibility seriously, but he could admit that he’d stopped just far enough from Tooru and Ushijima (he was pretty sure it was Ushijima anyway, he’d only ever seen the guy in magazines and really unflattering blurry pictures that Tooru showed him) that it’d be hard for them to recognize him, even if they had been paying him any attention. Which they definitely weren’t.

Tetsurou couldn’t help the swell of pride the spread through his chest as he heard Tooru coolly rip Ushijima a new one, even if he was getting the feeling that most of it was going over his head; what mattered to him was that Tooru wasn’t letting this loss tear him down, that he was still looking towards the future after all, and mostly, that he was still willing and able to drag his two favorite rivals through the mud in one breathe; he’d be really worried if he couldn’t.

Tetsurou waited a beat for the last echoes of Tooru’s parting words to fade - _“A murder of crows might even be able capable of killing a large eagle”_ ; a little bloodthirsty, but pretty fucking cool honestly, - before he ducked out into the hallway, setting off after Tooru.

He made eye contact as he passed Ushijima, and even though he just blinked at him, Tetsurou couldn’t help but incline his head with a polite, “Ushiwaka-chan,” before continuing on his way, the confused gaze lingering between his shoulder blades.

He caught up to him around the next bend, wrapping his hand around his elbow. “Tooru-” He yelped when Tooru snapped around, arm almost smacking him in the face. “Woah, it’s just me!”

Tooru blinked at him, eyes widening after a second. “Tetsu-chan?” He rubbed his eyes, squinting at him owlishly when he didn’t disappear right afterwards. Tetsurou didn’t even try to fight the wave of fondness washing over him at the sight of that nose scrunch. “What are you doing here?”

“Moral support?” Tetsurou offered, watching Tooru stare back at him incredulously.

“You didn’t tell me you were coming.”

“I didn’t want to distract you,” Tetsurou shrugged, reaching over to tuck his fingers into his elbow again, tugging him forward when he wasn’t shaken off again. “Kenma, Bokuto and Akaashi came with me.”

“Akaashi-kun?” Tooru looked up at him, eyes bright. “Did he-?”

“Yeah,” Tetsurou was quick to nod, wrapping an arm as gently as he could around his waist, pulling him against his side. “We were waiting near your bus. Akaashi stayed with them.”

“Oh,” Tooru’s voice was soft, breath quickly heating the corner of his shirt where he had let his head drop. “Is Iwa-chan doing okay?”

Tetsurou paused at that, humming thoughtfully. “Better than expected.” He decided on finally. “He’s a strong guy.”

“That’s Iwa-chan, alright,” Tooru laughed, a quick puff of air that disappeared as quickly as it came. “Our steady ace.”

“And Akaashi’s making sure he doesn’t forget it,” Tetsurou agreed, running a hand through Tooru’s hair, twisting his fingers around the still damp strands. “So the real question is, is the captain following his example?”

“Mm,” Tooru made a noncommittal sound, curling his hand into the fabric over Tetsurou’s stomach. “Of course I’m going to make sure Iwa-chan doesn’t forget that he’s awesome; he’s my best friend.”

“Tooru.”

“Tetsurou.” He couldn’t help but freeze at the sound of his full name coming from the other teen, attention one hundred percent focused on the heavy weight of him against his side.

“I’m tired, and sad, and angry, and my back hurts.” Tooru made an appreciative noise when Tetsurou immediately started running his hand up and down his back. “I just lost my last chance to wipe the floor with my biggest rival, to my biggest pain in the ass. And not only me, but my entire team too.” His hand flexed, fingers scraping softly over Tetsurou’s abdomen. “I still have to get them back to school and give them my last speech as captain, and I have to be strong until then.” He rubbed his face into Tetsurou’s neck, his next exhale sounding a little too shaky. “It’s going to be hard. I’m trying not to think about it too much.”

“No one’s expecting you to be composed.”

“Yes they are.”

“No, they’re not.” Tetsurou pulled him into a proper hug, still mindful of the bruises surely blooming on Tooru’s back as he tucked him against his chest. “Strong, yeah, of course. You’re the captain. It’s what we do. But not composed. You played and fought long and hard with these guys; any good commander worth his salt should be there emotionally with his troops.”

“Tetsu-chan,” Tooru’s snort was a weak thing, but something was better than nothing. “We’re a volleyball team, not an army.”

“Yeah? Could have fooled me, what with that crazy all-or-nothing move you pulled.” Tetsurou pressed his lips to his forehead. “How bad is it?”

“It hurts, but I’ll live.” Tooru admitted. “I’m starting to feel it more now.”  He snuggling closer. “Are you coming home with me?”

“Course I am,” Tetsurou conceded easily, already mentally drafting his text to his mom. “Nowhere I’d rather be.”

“You’re not just saying that because we lost, are you?”

“Babe, you wound me.” Tetsurou cupped one of Tooru’s cheeks, using his hold to tilt his head back enough to sprinkle kisses all over his face. “You’re where I want to be, twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week.” He smiled at Tooru’s half-hearted squirming. “I missed you.”

“Mm, I missed you too,” Tooru darted forward just long enough for Tetsurou to feel the warmth of his lips against his own, before pulling back with a tiny smile. “Now come on; we have to go convince Coach Irihata to let you on the bus with us.”

“Hopefully Akaashi’s already done all the hard work for us.”

“Only one way to find out, so come on.” Tooru pulled away -reluctantly, Tetsurou noted, - and started towards the exit, one hand wrapped firmly around one of Tetsurou’s. “Don’t be such a slowpoke, Tetsu-chan. Daylight’s burning.”

Tetsurou chose not to answer, eyes focusing on the stiff way Tooru was holding his torso instead. “Babe, when we get home, I’ll rub your back for you, okay? I think I have some of my stuff in my bag.” He knew he did; he’d made sure to place it there that morning, just in case.

“You spoil me, Tetsu-chan.”

“Anything for you, Princess.”

**Author's Note:**

> (●o≧д≦)o


End file.
